Cullen's Decision
by timinable
Summary: Cullen and the Inquisitor do not see eye to eye, except they both think the other is sexiness. Rated M for later sexy times (maybe, hopefully). Short chapters for quick reads, this is a short fiction, culminating in either death or smut.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Cullen stormed down the stairs, and out to the courtyard.

What a frustrating bit of woman the Inquisitor was. Beyond belief! He didn't know how she pushed his buttons so hard, only that she _really _pushed them.

He took one deep breath, and then a second, as he slowed his steps. No use letting anyone else know the Inquisitor could rankle him. As he carried on across the courtyard, Cullen let his mind pick over their conversation.

"We should send a few men to search for the missing soldiers. We need all the help we can get. Josephine agrees there is not really a diplomatic solution to finding soldiers lost in a woodland. If we can get a few men, with an extra horse of supplies, and we find them, we can bring them home safely."

"That, dear Cullen, is a lot of if's. If we even find the soldiers at all. There is no guarantee we would. I don't see the point to sending more men who may be lost as well, into some woods, to look for men who did not have the sense to bring at least a compass." the Inquisitor had responded.

"So, basically, we're not going to try. We're going to abandon these men to their fate, when all that may have happened is their packs got stolen by bandits, and they can't find their way back to a road?"

"Yes, that about sums it up. I have better uses for the soldiers at this point. We really need some manpower to clean out the rubble in the library."

And the most galling, she had then waved him away. Cullen contemplated her selfishness as he went into the bathhouse. Fed by underground hot springs the water was always warm, if a bit smelly.

He sighed heavily, as he undid the strings on his pauldrons. He would figure this problem out. If he could think in tactics and battle maps, he could figure out one little woman. One little, frustrating, _sexy_ woman. By the Maker, he would take his bath, relax, and figure the problem out!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N My last chapter was very short. It was originally intended as one of a few "Moment's in the life of Cullen" but then I went crazy expanding on it. So the next chapters are going to be a bit longer, because I actually had started writing them later on. So one short chapter, more longer ones. Sorry for that, but I didn't have a good way to edit them, with so many words in my head :)

Also: Bioware owns all. I just play in their sandbox, and I don't make any money at all to do it. So, this applies to the first chapter too.

**Cullen**

Cullen unbuckled his sword belt. The weight of his weapon was a comfort. He trained daily, morning and eve, drilling his movements to perfection. He also read, to keep his mind sharp, even though his former comrades would heckle him. Reading anything but the chant was for mages of course, he chuckled.

As he pulled his shirt off, he turned his mind back to the Inquisitor. He knew she was the daughter of a nobleman. Merely being a nobleman's daughter was in fact enough for some people to be selfish and self absorbed.

He yanked his pants and smalls off, and waded into the warm water. As he sank in up to his chin, Cullen was absolutely sure her selfishness had nothing to do with being a noble. He was no mind reader, but she seemed pretty bitter about the mark on her hand. He did not know how he would react to being marked. It would be another duty, he guessed.

Duty. Cullen mused over the word. He had been doing his duty in Kinloch, and then in Kirkwall. That had caused some issues. Being tortured by demons. A commander who was driven insane. He had absorbed, analyzed, and changed his mindset based on new experiences and information. Perhaps, he thought, she might have trouble doing that. Maker only knew that women could be an enigma. With a frustrated grunt, he pulled his hands through his hair.

Cullen stood and began soaping his body, lost in thought contemplating the Inquisitor's behavior. So lost in thought, he did not hear this subject of his musings enter the bathhouse.

**Trevelyan**

Amylia sauntered into the bathhouse. She just needed 5 minutes alone, away from people asking her this or that. It wasn't enough they had to throw her in prison, after she had just gone through the worst experience of her life… Oh no! They had to make her the leader of their little "save the world" party because the worst thing she had ever experience also made her the only one who could "save the world".

Bitterness flooded through her. She would save the world, but she didn't have to be self sacrificing and happy about it, dammit. She frowned at her own thoughts. It wasn't like she wanted the world to explode. Amylia just didn't want to be responsible if it did, and she was now in that position.

Amylia yanked the thong holding her hair back, and looked up to see the most wonderful rear end the Maker had created. Oh Maker, oh Maker. She should leave, panic coursing through her.

She must have made a noise, because he turned around and their eyes met.

"I… Oh Maker… I was going to… uh, um.. I'll just leave now!" she stammered, and turned and fled, her face blazing red.

Now how was she going to live this one down. "I'm sorry I stared at your ass for so long Cullen, and by the way, send those troops to look for our missing soldiers." Amylia practically ran to her quarters and covered her face with her hands.

It was official. The handsomest man in the fortress, and she was acting like a girl with a crush. Which, yes, she had a crush, but she wasn't really a girl anymore. Pacing, she worked her thoughts towards how she could fix this.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Bioware owns all the things, they are just kind enough to let me use them for nefarious purposes as long as I do not make a profit… which I don't.

**Cullen**

Cullen had just brought the soap up to his shoulder when he heard a noise. It sounded quite like someone was choking behind him, and so he turned around. And was eye to eye with the Inquisitor. The most frustrating woman on Thedas. Amylia.

Amylia, who went so purple in the face Cullen was sure her head would rupture. That was not a healthy color he noted clinically, as she stammered out that she was leaving. He watched her hair fan out behind her as she dashed off.

The warrior let in the air he was holding and sat back down. He closed his eyes, and breathed in several meditative breaths. It wasn't the first time he'd been seen naked, so he really shouldn't be embarrassed. With a small smile, he wondered if she had liked what she had seen.

Cullen shrugged, and finished off soaping away the day's grime. Rebuilding a fortress, even if you didn't actively hold a hammer, was filthy work. It seemed like all the jobs in life had been filthy in one way or another, though physically filthy was far preferable to spiritually filthy.

Knight-Captain Cullen. His former title rang hollow in his mind, and caused a sour taste in his mouth. He quickly pulled on his clothing and practically ran to the tavern, barely functioning though it was. He could certainly use a stiff drink, if only to clear his tongue. As he entered he saw Varric, probably giving orders for the dispensation of his rooms. With slight shake of his head, he approached the affable dwarf.

"Templar...what can I do for you today?"

"Well, you could not call me templar for starters, since I am not one anymore. Though I imagine you do it get a rise out of me. It reminds me of the tales I've been told of bratty little siblings… perhaps that can be your return nickname." Cullen replied with a grin.

"Ok, ok! No Templar, I get it. So what do you need. You look like you swallowed some rotten fruit," Varric held up his hands, though a concerned look did pass across his face, if you watched closely.

"I could just use a drink. Her Eminence saw me bathing."

"I fail to see how that is bad thing. She's quite the looker," Varric laughed out, as he signaled for some ale.

"Oh, well yeah, that wasn't so bad. I just got to thinking about the past. It isn't the best place to spend time, for either of us, but it does rear up on occasion. The present is difficult enough right now." Cullen accepted the mug that was brought for him.

Cullen and Varric sat and brooded for a moment. Varric perked up after a moment. "Let's get tipsy. We can have a man night! Where is Ser Gray when you need him?"

**Trevelyan**

Amylia paced her room, so deep in thought she missed Cassandra and Josephine watching her pace.

"Bets on how long it takes to fray the carpet?" Cassandra looked at Josephine.

Josephine shook her head, "Sooner than should be. You grab one side, and I'll get the other. We can take her to the tavern for some wine, and get her talking."

Cassandra nodded, and approached the Inquisitor. Josephine separated and moved to the other side. As Amylia began to pace away they each grabbed an arm, startling the poor woman.

"What is this? Where did you guys come from? These are my quarters and you are here without leave. Out! Out now!" Amylia sputtered. Damn these hens for interrupting her thoughts. She was so close to a plan to fix things with Cullen. Yes, it was elaborate, but desperate times, called for desperate measures!

"Your door was open, Your Eminence. We're going to take you for some wine at the tavern. We can have a girl's night, and talk about all the boys." Josephine grinned.

Amylia sighed. Talking to her friends would probably help, if not come up with a solution to her problem, at least she could vent about Cullen. She narrowed her eyes. She would let that man do naughty things to her, but she was still the head of the Inquisition, and it wouldn't be seemly.

She just had to make him realize that what she said went, and she couldn't give him special treatment. If it made her seem selfish and inconsiderate so be it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Bioware still owns all these characters, they just let me play dolls with their characters, which I am grateful for. I don't make any money off them at all.

**Cullen**

Cullen, Blackwall, and Varric laughed together at one of Varric's tales. "So tell me… what did our lovely Inquisitor say when she saw your backside?" Varric asked mischievously.

Cullen shook his head and rolled his eyes dramatically. "I realize I am about to become fodder for your stories. And she didn't say anything. She made a sound… it was sort of a coughing choke… possibly like a nug being strangled. I've never heard one of those before."

Varric nodded, then placed his chin on his hand. "This is excellent. Tell me more."

Blackwall made a slicing motion with one hand, while taking a long drink with the other. "Don't embarrass our poor Lady… She's just come in!" he whispered urgently, slamming his mug down.

Cullen glanced at the door: Josephine. Cassandra. And Amylia… their eyes met for the second time that day, and Cullen did so hope he would be able to talk to her eventually. Preferably without the map table between them. He did something he'd never actually done before, and winked to throw her off balance. Tactics first.

**Trevelyan**

Amylia stopped her compatriots. "Just a moment ladies. At least let me fix my hair!" she exclaimed, grabbing a brush.

Josephine laughed. "What happened to your hair anyway, my lovely? It looks like a nug nest."

Amylia stopped brushing and started plaiting. "Do nugs even have nests? I thought they lived underground. Wouldn't that make it a burrow? Probably filled with rocks and dirt." she sniffed.

Cassandra snorted as Amylia finished up, and they began to walk towards the tavern. "So, what has twisted your small clothes into a knot?"

Amylia laced her arms with Cassandra's and Josephine's. "I saw Cullen naked. Just his backside!" and her face lit with remembrance. Cassandra and Josephine perked up, "Do tell!" they exclaimed at the same time.

As the trio entered the tavern, Amylia looked up and saw Cullen looking at her. And then he WINKED! That cheeky bastard! She thanked Andraste, the Maker, and any other gods available that her color had returned to normal.

She would get him, so help her! Oh, yes, even if every time he spoke, she turned into a puddle of shivery excitement. Tossing out her plans for making up seeing him naked, she turned her thoughts towards getting even.

A/N - what did Cullen do to deserve revenge you may ask? He embarrassed the lovely Inquisitor of course, who may have a temperamental issue… maybe, possibly. Pragmatism aside, she's pretty explosive :)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thank you for the reviews, and to all who favorite/follow. It means a lot to me, and it's nice to wake up to kind words :) ((hugs to everyone))

Disclaimer: Bioware owns the characters. I just play dress up with them, and don't make any money.

**CULLEN**

"You really think upsetting out lovely Inquisitor is a good idea? This is the woman who hung that Avaar Chieftain by his thumbs for a whole day, just to get him to agree to spy for us. She's pragmatic, sure; but that vicious streak is a league wide!" Varric looked at Cullen. "Besides, Ser Gray and I are sitting next to you and she might turn that ire on us."

Blackwall shrugged, then nodded slowly. "She is fair at least. Mostly. She has sound reasoning behind her decisions. You can tell even though she doesn't particularly want to be here, or be the 'Herald of Andraste', she will finish the mission. Sure, it might be so she can go shopping later, but she does have the mission in mind. I can respect that, and her."

"Very valid points, both of you. I respect her immensely. I jsut disagree with leaving men behind, especially since we will probably need every man possible in the coming days. I know she's smart. You can practically see the cunning oozing out of her. Shall we play a hand?" Cullen pointed at the deck of cards in the middle of the table.

Varric tutted, "You guys are no competition." He grabbed the deck and began shuffling.

"Lies and slander, dwarf!" Blackwall growled out. "Deal me in!"

Cullen accepted his cards, and glanced over to look at Amylia. Amylia, who was looking at him. Amylia, who ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip; and, oh Maker, the temperature of the room increased. She was doing it on purpose, that minx!

**Trevelyan**

Amylia decided on a plan of action. As her group ordered cups of wine, she leaned in and whispered, "I'm going to drive him batty."

Cassandra and Josephine looked at each other. "And how pray tell are you going to do that?" Cassandra demanded.

Josephine chuckled. "She just has to keep doing what she is doing. Cullen already thinks you're insane. He has a hard time dealing with you," she pointed out.

Amylia shook her head, "You're my best friends. I can ask you anything, right? No judgement?"

Cassandra nodded immediately. Josephine nodded more slowly. "Of course we will judge you. Harshly and in secret!" she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled.

Amylia snorted. "You are such a tease!" After a deep bracing breath she blurted out, "I have a crush on Cullen." After a few more breaths, Amylia looked at her companions. "I think he's sexy. And then we argued today, about those soldiers. I was going to go for a soak to clear my head, but HE was already there, and I just got the most glorious eyeful of perfect, grabable ass and scratchable back. And then I turned into a drooling, red-faced idiot!"

Amylia drank several large gulps of wine, "I just... how can I..." She fumbled for words.

Josephine covered her mouth in mock shock. "You want us to tell you how to trap a military advisor? Actually, Cassandra might know a thing or two about traps. I think they involve ropes." Josephine covered Amylia's hand with her own as the trip began laughing together.

Amylia looked over to Cullen, and he just happened to catch her staring. So she did the only thing she could think of, and ran the tip of her tongue slowly across her top lip. Turnabout was fair play, she thought triumphantly as Cullen's cheeks pinked slightly. She turned her attention back to Josephine and Cassandra.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Woooo two chapters in one day. On a serious roll over here. I am grateful for everyone who has read my fiction, and I hope you enjoy the next chapters. Thank you for the views, the follows, the reviews. I love you guys :)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Bioware, and they're the owners of these here characters. I just dress them up, and play swords with them.

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**CULLEN**

Blackwall and Varric chuckled at Cullen's slightly pinkend cheeks. Blackwall carefully rearranged his cards and pulled out two to set aside. "She's giving you grief, eh? That doesn't surprise me. Our lady Inquisitor has a definite mind of her own. If she wasn't so interested in you, I might try courting her myself."

Cullen, taken aback by the confession, searched Blackwall's face. "Yes, I am serious. She is beautiful, passionate, fiery and strong. She is a swift and deadly fighter, and has the temper of a cranky bronto. I can guarantee that is worth every amount of effort to see what's underneath." Blackwall spoke softly, almost wistfully.

Cullen looked thoughtful, for only a moment, before he stood and started towards the ladies' table. Fortified by ale, and Blackwall's words ringing through his mind, he had to talk to her. His thoughts were to find out who she really was, and what they could possibly be together.

He slowed halfway to the Inquisitor's table, a small thought rearing up to cause doubt. He had been raised by the Chantry, and his past was conflicted. What did he know about having a relationship? Before he could lose his nerve, and possibly his lunch, Blackwall and Varric were on either side. Varric nodded slightly, and out of the corner of his mouth whispered, "I'll take Josephine. She hasn't tried to stab me yet."

The three men finished the walk together. Blackwall bowed and said, "My lady Cassandra. I was wondering if you would take a turn with me on the dance floor. I must ask your advice on a new blade, and the apprentice blacksmith is very difficult to work with. If anyone would have advice, it is you, my dear lady." Still bowed at the waist, he offered his hand, and Cassandra, flabbergasted, took it.

Varric, not bowing, but smoothly nevertheless, offered his hand to Josephine. "My lady, I have some questions regarding requisition orders, and while we talk about that, we can gossip about days gone by. You have a diplomatic touch like a feather, and together, with my cutting wit, we could rule all of Thedas." Josephine, eyes twinkling, leaned down to whisper something to Amylia, and then she was gone.

Cullen cleared his throat, and looked at Amylia. He offered his arm, and said "I wanted to ask you to the practice field. We could spar, and talk." Then he waited.

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**TREVELYAN**

Blackwall and Varric smoothly asked her companions away. Before she left, Josephine had whispered "Just be you. If he can not take you as yourself, then he does not deserve you." Amylia nodded barely registering. After her companions were gone, leaving her like a moonstruck girl alone, he held his arm out like a gentleman and asked her…. to spar?!

Amylia wanted to brain him. And sparring would be a good way to go about it she decided. Standing haughtily, she took Cullen's arm. "All right then. Let's spar, my lord," she said with sarcastic edge.

They made their way to the practice field, where evening's light had given the practice dummies a gruesome edge. They each made their way to the racks holding the practice weapons, where Cullen selected a wooden long sword, and practice shield. Amylia pulled out a wooden dagger and short sword.

Cullen cleared his throat for the third time, "First lethal hit wins?"

Amylia grinned, and nodded, and the fight began.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Thank you again to everyone who reads and reviews/favorites this. It means a lot to me (even just reading). I love you guys (feels!)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Bioware. I wish I did, but I don't. Bioware owns these here characters. I just use them to play dress up.

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**TREVELYAN**

Amylia, anger and excitement fueling her, charged at Cullen. WIth quick practiced movements she parried and dodged around to get that lethal hit, but he was faster than she expected him to be. 'He certainly isn't just a pretty face', she thought to herself. She noted his movements, looked for any opening to exploit, and in the back of her mind was that little voice trying to distract her. That little voice that was very appreciative of Ser Cullen's assets, telling her to look at the muscles and to think how his hands would feel on bare skin.

In order to silence that voice, Amylia ran at Cullen, and jumped and rolled toward his shield side. With a quick flurry of blows, she managed to make contact with his upper arm. 'Glancing blow' she noted. Not fatal then. She huffed out, and jumped backwards to get some distance. This was going to be a long spar, and she was far more used to quick kills. The anger had burned off, leaving adrenaline and an analytical mind that let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she was an idiot.

Cullen began moving toward, and the fight was on again. Seconds, turned into minutes which seemed to drag to hours. Every feint and thrust and dodge took a little more out of her. As the fight dragged on, she knew she was going to have to end this soon.

So, she ended it.

Amylia dodged backwards one last time, and reached inward for the last reserves of strength she had. She propelled herself forward, using her weapons to briefly knock aside Cullen's sword and shield, she leapt and locked her legs around his waist and brought her dagger down against his collarbone.

"That was not what I was expecting Inquis...Amylia," Cullen said through small catches of air, and then he grinned at her. She didn't know why that made her so angry. Maybe because she was practically gasping for air, maybe because she thought he was too damn hot, and maybe because she was a person and not a title. Either way, it came bubbling back, and she tossed her weapons aside, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard.

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**CULLEN**

Thoughts flew through his mind so quickly he could only catch fragments. She was kissing him. She had her legs wrapped around him and she was kissing him. He tossed his sword aside, and wrapped his arm around her to help support her. His shield, on the other hand, was being difficult, and he just wanted to keep kissing her.

She pulled back, and unwrapped her legs, and the absence made him want her that much more. "I need to go," she said, and turned to leave. Cullen grabbed at her arm, desperately, and thankfully managed to catch her.

"Wait," he implored. "I didn't ask you here to make you angry. I just wanted us to be alone, to talk, but this… this talking about myself and you. I'm not terribly great at it. I mean, you know about my past, and…" He trailed off as she whipped around.

"Cullen, I barely know anything about you. I know you have a big heart and don't want to leave men behind. I know you were in Kirkwall. I know you were a templar, but I don't really know you." She yanked her arm out of his hand, but made no move to leave. Cullen could only imagine the redness of her face, but it was only one of the pieces of her complexion that he adored.

Cullen impulsively reached up to touch her cheek. Then he leaned forward and softly kissed her. He thought, for just a moment, that she would run, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervor. After such a short time, she pulled back from him and turned to leave. As she was walking away, she called over her shoulder "Come to my quarters later. And leave that damned shield behind."

Cullen laughed. He struggled managed to unbuckle the shield and went to seek out Varric and Blackwall. This was certainly going to be an interesting relationship.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: OK, so NaNoWriMo is over, and dang that is a brutal two month process of brain drain. Now that the game has come out, Im still going to write this the way I originally intended. We can call it an AU of sorts, but really I just wanted to write some serious smuttiness, which is coming up next chapter (YAY!). I love you guys! All the feels! ((hugs))

Disclaimer: I just checked with my lawyer, and I still don't own Bioware L Of course, if I ever own Bioware, I won't be writing FanFiction anymore now will I? Love you Bioware peoples!

Chapter 9

CULLEN

Cullen walked into the tavern, covered in sweat from his duel and fully prepared for the mocking he was about to receive from his friends. Instead of seeing Blackwall and Varric, however, there was the massive frame of the Iron Bull, who quite amiably grabbed Cullen around the shoulders and pulled him to the bar.

"Two, please," the Iron Bull requested in an oh-so-polite growl, and the bartender obliged with two mugs of the foulest smelling brew Cullen had ever had the displeasure of being in the presence of.

"So… you and the boss, eh? You're doing it wrong though." Bull took a long draw and coughed a bit, which caused Cullen to fear for his own life. "Ahhhhhh. Now see, fighting women isn't the best way to say you're ready to bed them, although the boss is…. Strange." Bull got a faraway look, and Cullen took the opportunity to try and stop him, which was much easier thought than actually accomplished. "Wait, I.."

"Now what you need to do is this. You go right up to her, you look her right in the eyes. She's more likely to kick a man in the funbags than lead him on see? A blunt instrument, lots of fire in her even if she'd rather be shopping. So you look her right in the eyes, and then kiss her. Got it?" Bull steamrolled over every protestation from Cullen, who was getting redder and more indignant at the Bull's decidedly accurate description of their leader.

Bull gestured to the mug in front of Cullen. "Drink. Go up and do what I said. Don't worry about that clean thing, because you're just going to get sweaty again anyway."

"But…"

"Psssht! Do it! Go!" Bull waved him away, a massive matchmaker in the unlikeliest of places.

Cullen was pretty sure that this was a bad idea, but he drank anyway and wished to the Maker that he had not. The breath completely left his lungs, and as he choked for air – positive that was his last mortal action – his head went completely dizzy. Maker, he was dying, and not even in battle! Bull clapped him on the back.

"Excellent! That will put chest on your chest! Go on and have a great night," innuendo dripped from good natured sarcasm. Still struggling to breathe, Cullen staggered out of the tavern.

* * *

><p><span>TREVELYAN<span>

Amylia slammed her door shut, heart pounding and red faced with embarrassment and adrenaline. I just did that. She fanned her hands in front of her face and took deep breaths. She wasn't ashamed that she was attracted to Cullen, because Maker his muscle tone, and that hair that she just wanted to run her fingers through forever. And that rear! But she had just invited him to her quarters. _Saucily_ invited him to her quarters.

This was going to be a disaster. She was filthy and sweaty, and her hair was a mess, and no matter her tough demeanor sometimes a girl just wanted to be _pretty_. She walked to the mirror, and started trying to fix her hair. She looked at herself critically. She would just never be a classic beauty. Her features were far too strong.

She straightened her shoulders. She was a Trevelyan and she could bloody well act like it. She pulled her filthy clothes off and rinsed at the basin, getting the worst of the dirt and sweat from her duel cleaned off. She grabbed her dressing gown, and went to the bookshelf. "Swords and Shields" was sitting on the bottom shelf. Hadn't Cassandra said those were smutty literature? Perfect then!

As she stood a knock sounded at the door. She straightened her shoulders, ready to face the night, she hoped. "Come in" she called. Was that really her voice? This was a bad idea. She needed alcohol.

Cullen entered and moved quickly across the room until he was right in front of her. He was looking directly into her eyes, and it was discomfiting and yet strangely arousing. Those glorious eyes!

"I.." she started, just as Cullen kissed her deeply. She ran her fingers through that hair, and his hands ran down her arms to her waist, and back up her ribs. Goosebumps everywhere, and glorious fire. He finally pulled back.

"Stay?" she asked softly.


End file.
